Red Nail Polish
by LuminousMinds
Summary: He always did love it when she painted her nails.


Red Nail Polish

Summary: He always did love it when she painted her nails.

Author: LuminousMinds

Pairing: Mac Taylor/Stella Bonasera

Rating: M

A/N: Just a little one shot I thought you guys might like. Not my usual fic, seeing as this is Smacked, and as much as I hate to admit it, I DID have fun with it.

As per usual, I do not own CSI NY or any of its characters. *Le sigh*

Reviews would be lovely, thank you.

Well. Here it is. Enjoy!

* * *

Trickles of sunlight peered through the large window and gently hit Mac's handsome features, signaling the start of a new day. The older man let out a small groan as he stirred from his deep slumber, and went to shift away from the light, turning his body away from the window. He slowly stretched his arm, expecting to feel her warm body, but he was wrong. His fingers lightly skimmed the cold spot of the bed where she used to lay. And at this, he frowned.

Peeling off the duvet covers from his frame, he staggered to a standing position. After a moment, he looked down, realizing he was completely naked, and his minds' eye instantly conjured up several steamy images of last night's activities with a certain curly haired detective. He rubbed at his eyes and let out a soft sigh. Pulling out a drawer, he reached for a pair of pajamas pants, quickly put them on, and then calmly made his way on to the kitchen.

Mac trekked through the small living room, the floorboards creaking lightly under his feet, relieving some of the heavy silence that seemed to permeate the entire apartment. When he finally reached the kitchen, he had immediately stopped himself. Tilting his head slightly for a better view, he could see Stella Bonasera sitting by his kitchen table, a bottle of Nail Polish Remover placed alongside another smaller bottle of _Ferociously Red _nail polish. His face had scrunched up, obviously perplexed. It wasn't even seven yet. Why she had chosen this un-Godly hour to paint her nails, he would never know. But he wasn't complaining.

He always did love it when she painted her nails.

His broad shoulder caressed the frame of the entrance as he leaned against it, his electric blue eyes focused entirely on her. He watched her intently. He couldn't help but watch her. It was fascinating the way she meticulously painted each fingernail, handled each one with so much care. He could feel those fingers spearing through his feather-like hair, could feel them digging into his flesh while he pleasured her… Apparently, she had been on the last one, her right pinky finger, when she set the small brush back into the bottle momentarily, and puckered her pomegranate lips, blowing softly.

Mac tried his hardest not to groan. Again, another image flashed through his mind, of those same lips nipping at his neck, leaving trails and trails of kisses on his chest, all the way down to his finely chiseled front, until they closed around a certain part of his anatomy…

He shook his head. He needed to pay his attention to her. She had moved on to her toes, now. He watched as she propped up a creamy leg onto her seat, watched as her small white tank top had ridden up slightly while she hunched over, revealing a delicious patch of skin and leaving so much to the imagination. He saw how her blue shorts fit snugly over her arse. He watched her while she furrowed her perfect brow in concentration, while she dabbed the brush in the bottle again, and slowly began to paint each flawlessly manicured toenail. He watched her as she blew a stray curl away from her face, and take a deep breath before painting again.

"I know you're there," Stella declared, her attention to her nails never wavering. She had just finished her last toenail, and moved to prop her right leg up to continue the painting process. "You can come out now."

Mac let out a light chuckle as he stepped out of the shadows. "You always do," he retorted.

Stella coiled her head around to look at him, and was pleased to see him looking so thoroughly disheveled. She loved how his upper half was completely exposed, loved the way his pajama bottoms hung on his hips ever so slightly. He looked pleasantly fuckable. Her emerald eyes glazed over with what seemed like lust to him, and her teeth grazed her bottom lip. She wanted him. Again and again.

And he knew it. He always did. She saw his upper lip curl up into a smirk, smug and mocking.

"You like what you see?" Mac inquired, amusement laced in his tone.

Stella snorted, and turned back to finish painting her toenails red. "Don't flatter yourself," she quipped.

Stella could hear his steps. And they were getting closer. Before she knew it, his lips were on her ear, whispering, "I don't need to. You do that enough for me." It sent a bolt of electricity down her spine, and she thrived on it. She wanted more.

She set the brush back on the bottle for good, and extended her leg in the air, admiring her work. Turning her head slightly, she smiled. "What do ya think?" she queried, wiggling her ferociously red toes.

Mac smiled a little. "Perfect…" he had said, before his mouth descended on hers, catching her lips in a kiss that never failed to make her heart race.

Stella let out a moan as his tongue made its way past the barrier of her teeth and inside her mouth, engaging hers in a duel for domination. His hands had held her face steady, but slowly began to wander. Deft fingers skittered over her collarbone, and stopped at the feel of the cotton fabric that was her tank top, before sliding one finger under it, then two, then three…and then his entire hand had made contact with the skin underneath. Stella arched her back off the chair as his calloused hand cupped her breast, fingers playing with an already hard nipple, which triggered a whole wave of sensations that traveled directly to her core. Stella moaned again, the sound echoing in the small kitchen, and she could feel his smirk in between their kissing. As a form of retaliation, she took his bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down, to which Mac responded with a groan of his own.

"You're still up for this?" she panted, "Even after all we did last night?"

"Just can't get enough," he rasped.

In a blink of an eye, he had the woman on her back, pinned to the table. His royal blue hues perused her lovely form, and they shifted to an icy tint. He decided then that she was wearing entirely too much.

His fingers curled around the hem of her top, and he removed it with ease, tossing it aside without a care in the world as his eyes devoured her semi naked figure. His own loomed over her more fragile frame, and he bowed his head, his tongue running over the valley of her breasts, before finally taking a pert nipple into his hot mouth, suckling and teeth nipping at the hard peak. Stella involuntarily jerked her hips toward him, and let out a content sigh, as he continued his exploration from her chest, to her tight abdomen, leaving a salty trail with his tongue while he slowly made his way down to her center…

Mac gripped the waistband of her booty shorts, and tugged. His eyes flashed in excitement, he was obviously thrilled that she wasn't wearing any panties. Made it that much better for him.

God, she was already wet. She was so wet. She was so wet for him.

And then his mouth began its assault on her, tongue swiping at her bundle of nerves and, very briefly, his teeth captured that little girlish point of sheer pleasure and she released a cry of unadulterated bliss, and as was expected, ran her fingers through his delectable hair. He could feel a part of himself growing hard instantly. Mac groaned into her, and his tongue immediately dipped inside her slick folds, thrusting quickly, absorbing her heat and her wetness, loving the way she tasted. God, did she taste good, so good.

And then she spoke. "Mac, I-I can't take it," Stella panted. He stopped his ministrations, and peered up to her, with a questioning glance.

She smirked. "Quit teasing me, you bastard." Their lips clashed in a bruising kiss, and Stella moaned lightly as she tasted herself on his lips. She pulled back, desire clearly etched in her jade orbs. "And fuck me like you damn well mean it."

His pajama bottoms pooled at his feet, and he stepped in between her legs. He could feel hers wrapping around his waist, and his hands splayed over her stomach, while his hips shifted forward, burying his manhood in her tight, wet center.

Stella let out a gasp, an arched her back off the table while he set a steady pace. He thrust into her again, slowly, and as deep as he possibly could. A moan slipped past his lips, and then the urgency took over. Stella practically screamed as his hardness tore into her deep and hard, and her arms were spread, trying to find an edge to hold on to, but had then quickly settled for his back, her newly polished nails grounding into his skin and dragging down.

She could feel him lifting her left leg up to his shoulder. Mac had wrapped his arms around her leg, keeping her in place, while the other lay dangling over the table, the new position leaving her completely open to him now. Their groans of ecstasy grew louder and louder with each sharp thrust to her willing body, oh, the way he slid in and out of her with such delicious precision, the way he managed to hit every single nerve in her body, it was all just ridiculously good, and she never wanted it to stop, never wanted this to end.

Stella felt a tingling sensation pooling at the pit of her stomach, and with another thrust, she let out another loud cry as her climax ripped over her in waves, feeling herself falling off the edge and into that glorious pool of mind-numbing pleasure. Mac followed soon after, her name the last thing to fall from his lips, and he thrust into her one last time, as his seed delightfully warmed up her insides.

They panted, almost in unison, as they came back down from their high. Eyes locked, his sparkling pools of blue with her crystal-grew, a smile stole from the corners of their mouths. They knew.

He always did love it when she painted her nails.

FIN.


End file.
